


Uncheriganed

by traumschwinge



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Chance Meetings, Complicated Relationships, Culture, Espionage, Inspired by Uncharted, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Protectiveness, Telepathy, Travel, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:05:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8469844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge
Summary: Erik's plans for the summer had consisted of traveling, possibly writing some book recensions and grading term papers. But with the arrival of an old... acquaintance, all his plans are in shambles. Well, not the traveling part, but anything even closely resembling peace and quiet. Now, his near future seems to be full of the promise of possible violence and a sudden death in parts far away. And yet, he wouldn't stay home for any price in the world.
An AU vaguely inspired by the Uncharted game series in tone and setting, but not in story.





	1. No Beginning Is Without Hardship

# ᠠᠯᠢᠪᠠ ᠡᠬᠢᠯᠡᠯ ᠬᠡᠴᠡᠭᠦᠦ ᠪᠠᠶᠢᠳᠠᠭ᠃

In what could only be described as a cloud of dust, a man strode into Erik’s office. Years of dealing with this man had taught Erik to sprint to the door, look up and down the hall outside for anyone out of place, lock the door, then hurry back to the window by his desk and closed the blinds. Absentmindedly, he scanned all the perimeter for guns with his powers. Only after he was sure everything was as it should be, he turned around and looked at his visitor. Reconsidering once more who he was looking at, he shifted so his heavy desk was between him and the door and he was mostly invisible to anyone aiming through the window.

His visitor rolled his eyes at him. “You’re behaving ridiculous,” the visitor commented.

Erik harrumpfed. “I should just call campus security, that’d be more rational. So, what do you want?”

”Oh, c’mon, what did I ever do to deserve this treatment?”

”You almost got me killed!” A mostly ornamental _phurba1_ ritual dagger started to rattle ominously.

”Once!”

Erik let out a sigh. The phurba came to a rest again. “Only if you see our entire acquaintanceship as one long try at seeing me finally killed.” He sat down behind his desk, carefully rolling the chair back to the wall and away from the window, for all that it was possible in the cramped space.

”Is that all you see in me? An acquaintance who gets you shot at?”

”Mostly,” Erik allowed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was already getting an headache. “What do you need this time?”

”Just a translation.” Somewhere, from a dusty pocket, a folded piece of paper was produced. It was unfolded and smoothed on Erik’s desk. Without a comment, Erik turned the paper so it wasn’t sideways anymore.

”Do I even want to know?” Erik sighed. He couldn’t see a title, it just seemed to be the middle of some text. But he was able to spot a couple of names before he’d even started to read and those alone gave him an uneasy feeling.

His visitor shrugged. “You usually don’t.”

”Will you at least tell me where you sto- ...found this?” He tapped on the paper. At least it didn’t look original, or rather, not like it was from the thirteenth century.

”I found it! No stealing involved. Promise.”

”Whose grave did you rob when you found it?” Erik sighed. “Listen, this isn’t my speciality, not exactly, I need a bit of time and… Do you see the big green dictionary in front of the books on the second shelf? Pass it here.” He didn’t wait for his orders to be followed, he just pulled some clean paper from his desk and a pen and started transliterating, mostly so he could annotate without having to worry about accidentally writing on the, probably, antique text.

The heavy dictionary landed on the desk next to the paper. “I didn’t rob any grave,” his visitor assured him. “....it was a stupa2. And had already been robbed. And smashed. I just found this stuck in a corner, promise.”

”I hate you,” Erik grumbled between two sentences. He was halfway through, writing as fast as possible. It showed on his handwriting, but it didn’t matter much. He was mostly annoyed that he was very obviously stared at. “How come you’re robbing stupas anyway? I thought… Your _last_ letter _said_ you were in South America.” He tried not to sound too hurt over the fact that the last time he had gotten any word at all had been more than six months ago.

”...something got in the way.”

For a moment, Erik paused his frantic writing. “Prison again?”

”Work!” Erik heard the chair creak as his visitor leaned back. “I am usually paid, you know, to ‘rob graves’ as you put it.” A sigh. “Why’re you this grumpy, anyway?”

Finished with the transliteration, Erik folded the paper up again and pushed it across the table. Without looking up, he grabbed the dictionary and busied himself searching for the more obscure words, the few ones he didn’t know. “I thought you’d finally gone off and died,” Erik mumbled into the pages. “Now, you’re back here and… Why bother? You’ll leave as soon as you got what you came for anyway.” He frowned at the transliteration, then at the dictionary, before he scribbled something down. “Starts in the middle of the sentence, because of course it does when has it ever been simple, why isn’t this a scroll or a _pecha_3 anyway,” he grumbled at the text.

”Erik…”

”What? I’m hurrying up, alright? Just so you can run off as soon as possible,” he huffed. It was easy to complain while he was still turning pages.

Something small and glittering landed on the desk, wobbling for a bit before it came to a rest. Erik hesitated, unwilling to identify the thing with his eyes and hands when he had long since known what and where it was. “Two four seven4,” the visitor said softly. “Back when you…”

”I know what I did,” Erik snapped. He was staring at the ring now as if he was afraid it might set his desk on fire. “It’s right there anyway.”

”Five twelve two twelve eight,” was supplied helpfully.

Erik rolled his eyes. “Exactly. Pretentious bullshit.” He looked down at his translation. “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, I think. If! If you shut up now and let me concentrate. That means you sit still, too.”

”Can’t concentrate in my presence, huh?” Erik ignored both the words and the smirk, forcing himself not to reach out with his powers to make sure he’d get his peace. As if nothing had happened, he soldiered on in his writing. "You don't have to finish it asap, Erik,” his visitor said. For the first time, he sounded actually uncomfortable, maybe even concerned. Almost like he was afraid Erik’s mood was… Erik crossed a word out. Like he’d ever cared about his feelings anyway. But the doubt in Erik’s mind remained.

After a long pause, in which Erik managed to scribble two more sentences down, his visitor shifted in his seat, leaning forward, into Erik’s space. “...I'd actually prefer if you didn't. I mean... I don't have any other reason than that to hang about and... I'd like to spend some time. If you'd let me." A finger tapped on the sheet Erik was writing on and when Erik raised his pen away, the sheet was dragged back.

Erik sighed. "...semester break started two days ago." He didn’t try to snatch the sheet back. It could wait the five minutes it might take them to fight it out.

Erik had expected to be told or staved off, any negative response, but not the astonished "Huh?” he actually heard.

Erik cleared his throat. This was more uncomfortable than he’d expected. "You could take me along for the next... Six weeks? Students can wait." A part of Erik’s mind wondered idly what his life insurance would say if he got shot by mercenaries in some steppe or other. Probably that it was absolutely unthinkable for him to even be miles and miles away from any semblance of not-tent based civilization, especially since that was just about the center of his studies and teaching.

"Really?" His visitor’s slightly coarse voice brought him back to the here and now.

He reached across the table. Fingers met briefly, before Erik pulled back again.

”I’m coming along,” Erik repeated. “It’ll help if you have someone who can read what you probably find, anyway. I think. I’m not letting you change my mind. I know what I’m getting into. You got me into this kind of adventures often enough. This time, at least I’m asking for it.”

His visitor was silent for a moment, then, he started to laugh. “Alright. But don’t blame me if you get physically hurt.”

”I will blame you for everything that ever has and will happen to me,” Erik deadpanned. “...good and bad.”

”Understood,” his visitor laughed. He pushed the half finished translation back at Erik. “When you’re finished, let's grab a dictionary or two and get out of here. I have a nice, close hotel room.”

Erik looked up to the bookshelf that held his private dictionaries, almost all of them thick tomes, sometimes several volumes large. “Seriously.”

”Pick a small one.”

Erik let a searching glance sweep the shelf. “I can offer either three or nine kilo of book,” he concluded. At the questioning look he received, he added, “You’re asking for specialized, pre-classical translations. I can’t just take a modern dict and hope it’ll be alright. Honestly, we’re better off without one, probably. I mean, I would _prefer_ the dictionary, but if they’re too heavy.” Erik shrugged. “And you’re not leaving me here to just mail what you find for me to translate. I will come along.

”And you don’t want the dictionary to get lost.”

Erik nodded. “That too. They’re expensive. And some are gifts.”

”So… You don’t have anything digital?”

Erik cleared his throat.

”So you have.” The smirk was audible.

”...not officially, no.” Erik looked away. “But I might have made a bored TA scan the three kilo one for one of my courses years ago.”

”Erik.” There was a soft whistle. “I’d never thought you’d… I’m almost proud, all thanks to my bad example.”

”...no, all thanks to the fact that there’s not a single western publisher printing them and I can’t make my students order them from Asia.” Erik shrugged. “I don’t feel bad. Not really.” Erik unlocked and opened his desk drawer to take out a small tablet. “I can put it on here.”

His visitor craned his neck to try look into the drawer. “You don’t happen to have your passport in there as well?”

”Because you don’t want me going home?” Erik didn’t take his eyes off the booting pc’s screen. “You’re lucky. I meant to book a plane ticket anyway. I have it in my bag.”

”Plane ticket where?” The smirk was audible, but Erik was able to hide his irritation by bending down to pick the USB cable up.

After a bit of clicking around, some unnecessary and just for the pause’s sake, Erik replied, “Where we meant to go anyway.”

”So you have a visa?”

This time, Erik looked his visitor in the eye, mostly to see if he was being lied to and or avoided. “ _We_ ” he said. “Don’t need a visa. It’s thirty days without one as tourists for both of us.” Erik was almost certain his glance was being avoided for a split second but he couldn’t be sure. He knew, though, that something was off.

”Huh, would you look at that. Didn’t know.”

Erik rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to his computer. Two minutes for the pdfs. “That’s because you never travel legally anyway.”

”Legal travel means baggage and personal security checks. You know how much they love me at airports.”

Erik snorted. “I remember.”

A sigh. “I’m almost looking forward to the introduction of full body scanners in addition to the chips in passports. Less stupid baseline questions.”

Erik merely hummed. It was an old topic and he was too tired to get riled up about of the inconveniences of travelling as a mutant. Instead, he looked around his office. “Hm,” he made.

”Hm?” echoed his visitor.

”What about clothes? I mean, if going home is out of the question… Do we have a day for me to prepare luggage tomorrow? Or are you in a hurry?”

”Weeeell.” His visitor shrugged. “I’m always in a hurry. You know me. But… A day for you to prep and to pick a flight and everything, should be needed anyway.”

Erik rubbed a hand across his face. “Of course,” he sighed. He felt tired. “Of course. Did you even have a plan beyond ‘let's ask Erik for the translation’? Did you even know anything? Where you’re going, what you’re looking for?” He threw his hands up. “Hell, you probably don’t even know where to sell whatever you’ll find and trust me, nobody who needs you to have acquired it legally will take it so I do hope if you hope to make any money from it you already know possible buyers, I swear…”

”Wouldn’t you just have said all my plans suck and I should never be allowed to plan?” A shrug. “And I do know what I’m looking for. It’s Čingkis Khān’s grave, right?”

”Wrong.” Erik tipped on his hurried writing. “Not the grave. At least not with this alone. This, this only talks about his seal. Which, by the way, is equally lost in history.”

”But much easier to smuggle.” The smirk this was accompanied by just begged for Erik to punch it. His fist itched for it.

”Not the point,” Erik pressed out through clenched teeth. “I swear if we get lost in the steppe, I will leave you there to die.”

All Erik got in reply was a solemn nod. It was somehow worse than if his words had been doubted.

”I hate you so much,” he grumbled, with little spite.

”Yes, I know.” His visitor stood up and stretched. “Do you need anything else from your office?”

Erik looked around, thinking closely about the questions. Chances were, he wouldn’t come back to the office for weeks. If only he had known the same about his flat… Erik shook his head. “We can leave.” He turned off the pc. “Just…” He scribbled a note on a post-it, then another one on the one underneath. The first post-it he stuck on the dark computer screen, the second to the back of his hand. “Ok,” he pulled a breath in. “Ready to leave.”

On the way out, with the blinds open again and all lights off, Erik stuck the second post-it note on the small sign spelling out Prof. Lehnsherr’s office hours. It read:

“No office hours til new semester,   
Term papers -> office 014”

~*~

Logan’s hotel room turned out to be rather anonymous, in a simple hotel aimed solely at businessmen with a king size bed and no indication of any guest actually staying. It was exactly what Erik had expected, down to the firearms he pretended not to notice. With a sigh, he let his bag fall to the floor next to the single desk in a corner and sat down heavy on the bed. He forced himself not to dwell on the thought of having no choice whether he wanted to share the bed with somebody he hadn’t seen in far too long or not.

He felt more than he saw Logan move around the room, getting out of his jacket and throwing it over the chair, opening the closet and grabbing a bag that had seen better days and probably half the world in its time. He stood in the middle of the room, in what little space there was, for a moment, apparently waiting for something.

”What did you prepare?” Erik asked, too tired to talk around it. Logan got on his nerves when he tried not to be direct.

”Plane tickets for the day after tomorrow,” Logan admitted. “Direct flight to UB5. Got a hostel there, too, and…” He shrugged. “That’s about it. I thought it would be better to leave the rest to you. But I have something to show you.” He threw the bag at Erik who caught it in front of his chest. It was heavier than he had thought at first glance.

Slowly, unsure what to expect but ready for everything including dried up body parts and venomous animals, Erik zipped the bag open. Inside were a couple of notebooks and some stacks of photographs held together with rubber bands, a handful of artifacts and lastly, at the bottom, cloth wrapped long, rectangular boxes that Erik recognized as _pechas_ at first glance. “Info on the job?” he asked, carefully unwrapping the first of the block prints, wrinkling his nose a little at how carelessly it had been treated. His lips moved silently as he read the title. For a while, only the noise of turning sheets of paper filled the room. Erik unwrapped the second book as well, reading some pages before moving back to the first one, wrinkling his forehead in concentration. “That’s a weird, weird version of this story,” he eventually concluded.

With much care, he folded the cloth back around the books and put them down on the bed next to himself before he moved on to the photographs. They mostly showed jungle, ruins in jungle, mountains, some more jungle, a lot more mountains, a cave… Erik flipped through the first stack. Nice of Logan to document what he was doing for once, but none of that held any interest to Erik. The next stack was only little better, with more mountains, steppe instead of jungle. He got halfway through that stack before he reached the picture of a relief. He squinted. Looked a little closer. Flipped over to the next photo that luckily showed a detail of the same relief. Erik whistled low. The next photographs, which showed more of the same, some statues, some architecture, a lot of leftovers of architecture and wall paintings. Eventually, Erik just gave up and summoned his bag, taking out pen and paper to take notes.

Logan, mostly forgotten by then, eventually cleared his throat. He wore an amused expression that told Erik he was having a laugh at his cost and he was not in on the joke. “I’m about to order dinner from room service. Anything I can get you? More paper? Ink? Actual food?”

Erik blinked. Somewhat confused, he mused why Logan wasn’t sitting on the bed but at the desk. An ancient, sturdy laptop was now noisily whirring air through its cooler. “Dinner?” he repeated, his mind still thousands of kilometers away.

”Dinner,” Logan confirmed. “Selection is small but…” He handed a printout over. “I buy. On the condition that you clear the bed before you fall asleep.”

Erik glanced over the mess of photographs he had made around him on the bed. “Can I keep them?”

”Sure.” Logan shrugged. Erik thought he heard some unsaid words along with that but dismissed it. If Logan wanted something, he could just as well say it. “Dinner?” Logan reminded him again, when he noticed Erik’s eyes drifting back to the photographs.

”Sammich,” Erik mumbled, his attention span for talks too exhausted already to even articulate the word sandwich properly.

 

For the two hours after that, Logan just let him be, simply putting a plate next to Erik after roomservice had found their way up and taking it away again when Erik had somehow managed to find the sandwich on it and eat it.

Eventually, though, when Logan felt like he was at the choice of either sleeping at the desk or make Erik go to bed, he stood, stretched and started to clear the debris around Erik, bundling the discarded photographs back up and stowing stacks and pecha back away in their bag. For a moment, he hesitated, but then he also picked the notebook Erik had not yet managed to look at up to put it away. For a long minute after, he just looked at Erik, wondering if he, along with all of the room that was not images and descriptions of faraway places, had been forgotten.

In a spur of the moment decision, Logan got up again to fetch his current journal, a small, already banged up notebook with a brown leathery cover and blank pages just like the one Erik was bent over, lost in the notes and drawings. He also brought a pencil with him back over to the bed. Then, opening the next empty page, he started to sketch.

 

Eventually, after what his protesting neck told him had been a very long time, Erik reached the end of the first notebook. Or at least the empty pages had him think it was, until he noticed that the last few of them were sticking together thanks to a brown stain--of which Erik hoped it was coffee, but knew better than to check. Sliding his thumbnail between two pages and then jerking it to the top of the page, he managed to unstick the pages. The first open page showed just some drawings of plants, flowers mostly and the two after that were sketches of various animals. Erik had meant to shut the notebook there and then, almost bored and feeling like an intruder, since to him it was clear that the sketches were those Logan had only done to do something in bored moments, or to relax. But he could also feel bumps under the paper to the last pages, one of them directly under the stain. He turned the page.

He forced himself to only look at the flowers. There was a handful of them, all neatly pressed and dried to be preserved for however long, even though the one in the top left corner seemed to have not been dried enough before being stuck in the book, causing the now not so mysterious stain. Between the flowers, the page was almost entirely filled with pencil sketches, and full black and white drawings. They had to be drawn from memory, Erik was almost sure of that. He had no recollection of most of them, though he recognized one that looked like a photograph he had send Logan in a passive-aggressive attempt to get Logan to come back for at least a couple of days. The rest…

Erik looked up. Logan wasn’t at the desk anymore and the laptop was gone. He had to turn slightly to look at Logan sitting on the other half of the bed. The cleaning had gone entirely unnoticed by Erik before, as well as Logan moving around and the small metal box of color pencils in ten or maybe twelve colors open next to Logan’s knee. But most of all, he hadn’t even noticed that Logan had been drawing _him_ while he had been so absorbed.

Logan put the pencil he had been holding back in its place in the box. WIth a helpless smile and a shrug, he said, “I missed you.”

Erik opened and closed his mouth, unable to find the words to convey all he wanted to say to that. Frustrated, he pressed his lips together in a tight line. With more care than he had meant to, he closed the notebook, handing it back to Logan.

Logan held up a hand. “Keep it. The notes were useful in the moment, but now they might be better served in the hands of someone who can make sense beyond the circumstantial out of them.”

”I don’t want it.” Erik let the book fall on Logan’s lap, doing his best not to look at what he had been drawing.

With a sigh, Logan took the notebook and opened it at the last empty page before the drawings started. He unsheathed a single one of his claws, aiming carefully along the gutter to cut the offending drawings out. Then, he took the now loose pages and stuck them carefully in the back of his current notebook, before handing the old one back to Erik. “All better now.”

Erik just itched to stand up and leave, probably with the bag of treasures Logan had handed him earlier and maybe not try to contact Logan for a long, long time. Instead, he merely swallowed. “It’s creepy.”

”I...” Erik’s glare made Logan shut up.

”It still is creepy, no matter what intention,” Erik said. He looked away. “You could have told me to come.”

”And then what?” Logan’s voice was a low, barely audible rumble. It had Erik shift on the bed, putting the box of pencils and both notebooks aside and sit with his whole body turned to Logan, ready to… fight, probably. “And even if you’d come, then what? Erik, I get shot at, a lot. I don’t need you around for that.”

”I can defend myself against bullets and knives!” Erik protested, levitating the pencil box to underline his point. And he had stopped bullets before, even a shotgun load once. Logan had been witness to it.

”Not always.” Logan’s hand twitched, but Erik was faster, leaning back and pulling his shirt up to reveal an old scar on his side, jagged and unevenly healed.

”It didn’t kill me.”

Logan frowned. “And that just means you will be as lucky every time? Or as quick or as near to clean bandages, or, really, Erik, anything that means neither bullet nor blade nor infection will kill you?” It had been a long, long time since Erik had seen him as angry. Once, only once, if he was honest with himself.

”So it was better to leave me to worry and never call or write?” Erik had never liked other people making decisions for him. It was one of the reasons why he had gotten in trouble a lot when he was younger.

”If you had known where I was and had had the time, would you still have stayed away?” Logan asked, calmer.

”Then why take me along this time?” Erik’s glance flittered back to the notebooks. “Just because I’m _useful_ for once?”

That, at least, seemed to make Logan uncomfortable. “As I said…” He sighed. Very, very low, he admitted, “If I had gone without you this time, you’d have my head once you found out.”

Erik’s shoulders slumped. “At least my wrath is good for something,” he murmured, rolling his shirt back down and brushing some of the worse creases out. “I missed you.”

Logan held out his hand to Erik, pulling him closer when he accepted. “Bed?”

Erik laughed against Logan’s shoulder. “We’re already there.”

”Sleep, then.”

”Sounds good to me.”

 

* * *

 

1\. A phurba looks like [this](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/40/%D0%A6%D1%8B%D0%B1%D0%B8%D0%BA%D0%BE%D0%B2_%D0%BF%D1%83%D1%80%D0%B1%D0%B0.png). It's a threesided dagger, with the three blades joined on one side so it looks like a star. It's used in Tibetan buddhism and Bön and cultures influenced by that. Erik probably bought the one in the story as a souvenir.↩   
2\. When Logan says "stupa" he thinks of something like [this](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b0/Ch%C3%B6rtens_near_Chhusang.jpg), not the great temple-like ones.↩   
3\. [Pecha](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/ee/Thar_pa_chen_po%E2%80%99i_mod_%3D_S%C5%ABtra_of_great_liberation..JPG) is the usual shape texts from Tibetan Buddhism come in.↩   
4\. 2 4 7 or two four seven is code for "би чамд хайртай" or, in English, "I love you". 5 12 and 12 8 are Latin letters.↩   
5\. UB is short for Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia's capital.↩


	2. Catching one man with your hands; catching a thousand with your mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling is hard, especially when you have little time and come upon chance meetings.

# ᠭᠠᠷ ᠢᠶᠠᠷ ᠭᠠᠭᠴᠠ ᠬᠦᠮᠦᠨ ᠢ ᠳᠡᠶᠢᠯᠬᠦ᠂  
ᠲᠣᠯᠣᠭᠠᠢ ᠪᠠᠷ ᠮᠢᠩᠭᠠᠨ ᠬᠦᠮᠦᠨ ᠢ ᠳᠡᠶᠢᠯᠬᠦ᠃

 

 

Gentle snores woke Erik the next morning. He could also feel warm breath against the back of his neck, a circumstance that occupied the first few half-awake thoughts until he managed to remember that it was Logan, he could feel the bones under the muscles pressing against his back and that, therefore, everything was in order, although probably only temporarily safe.

Mostly using his powers, Erik freed himself from Logan’s embrace by rolling him onto his back. It took him until he stood in the small hotel bathroom to remember that he had nothing with him, just the sad contents of the bag he usually carried to the university. Sighing, he postponed that problem until after a shower, deciding that hotel shower gel and shampoo would at least be enough for that.

When he eventually emerged from the bathroom, one of the hotel towels wrapped around his hips, Logan was sitting up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It took him a couple of blinks to focus on Erik, then he smiled. “I could get used to waking up to this,” he rumbled.

Erik rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

Logan stretched with a loud yawn. “‘t wasn’t a joke.” The hand he ran through his hair only made the bed hair worse, which in Erik’s opinion was still an improvement over the usual.

”Yeah? Well, since you’re unable to call I have no clothes, at all, to change into, so don’t test me or I will make you go buy me at least one change of clothes.” Erik opened the closet to take a look at the contents of Logan’s old, battered travel bag. He sniffed at the contents, pulled a face and closed the closet again.

”Yesterday’s clothes only mean walk of shame after a one night stand,” Logan hummed. “And you intend to still be here tonight, no?”

Erik shot him a look which he hoped signaled Logan that he might only be there to murder Logan in his sleep and didn’t say anything.

”How about we get dressed and go find ourselves some breakfast at a place you don’t usually frequent and then spend the day with shopping for all the things you think you need to buy before we fly out?” Logan swung his legs over the side of the bed but didn’t get up yet. He still looked somewhat sleepy.

Erik shot him another flat look, before he caved with a low sigh. “At least let me grab my clothes before you occupy the bathroom.”

~*~

They had breakfast in the café section of a bakery a few streets away from the hotel. Erik had taken the notebook he had still to read with him, mostly so he didn’t have to talk to Logan when he didn’t want to. Most of the things he did want to talk about when it came to Logan were questions, he had learned years ago, that didn’t need answers. Or at least that he prefered if he didn’t know the answer to. Not every crime needed to be known. And not every gun wound needed a story to be told.

”What’cha workin at?” Logan asked when he was done eating and had ordered a second cup of coffee from a passing waitress.

”Your notes,” Erik deadpanned.

”I meant more like work work, not in your free time.”

Erik shrugged. “I taped some singers a bunch of years ago and am still busy going through the material. And of course doing translation work and giving lectures, mostly.”

”Singers?” Logan repeated in a tone that made it clear he was thinking of music on the radio.

”Epics, in song form1, mostly.” Erik rolled his eyes. “You remember _Gesar2_ , don’t you?”

Logan smirked. “I mostly remember falling asleep while being read that one.”

Erik shrugged. “At least you remember it at all.”

”So, uhm…” Logan cleared his throat. “You aren’t working on petroglyphs3.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “I’ve read some articles.” Much lower, he added, “Do you think those will be important?”

”Probably,” Logan mouthed back. “So they still don’t know too much about the meaning?”

”There are… theories,” Erik said in a tone that made it clear he thought that at least half of them were utter humbug and half the rest wishful thinking. Mentally, he added graphite, more paper and hairspray to the list of things they would need.

”Ah, good,” Logan leaned back. “I mostly asked to find out if I have to wait on you rubbing of stone markings while we’re on holiday.” For a second and in a way probably only Erik would ever notice, he looked to the door. It took everything Erik had not to turn around and look for whatever Logan had noticed. There were no weapons or other suspicious shapes of metal anywhere to be felt though, so he figured there was no imminent danger.

In response to Logan’s question and to play along, Erik shook his head. “I told you, all we would do on this vacation was travel a bit, ride horses, look at a lake, be away from any and all mobile phone coverage…” His voice trailed off and he smiled. It was probably too much but he still reached across the table to take and squeeze Logan’s hand. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

Logan smiled softly. He turned his hand so his palm was up. “I know. That’s why I promised to, babe.”

For a second, Erik’s eyes narrowed. A warning pressure on Logan’s hand had to suffice in telling him that he was going a little too far. “I just wished,” Erik lied. “That you’d like lazing on beaches more.”

”Isn’t it enough that I like riding?” The smirk on Logan’s face had turned to something far more lewd than Erik had ever seen on him. For a moment, he almost waited for the sound of breaking cups or plates, any sign that they had been listened to and that their listener felt the words were as indecent as Erik thought they were.

Instead, Erik noticed a slight pressure at the back of his head, a feeling he had come to associate with the few telepaths he had met before. In an act of what Erik prefered to call self-defense, he thought exactly of what Logan had meant instead of what he had said. Then, still firmly holding on to the mental image, he turned to look around the busy room for anyone looking even slightly ashamed or flustered. But nobody, not the group of women about their age on the table next to them, nor the student behind their laptop on the other side looked anything like it. Only the well dressed, brown haired man by the bar with sugar and milk was even vaguely looking in their direction, but when his and Erik’s glance met he just shrugged and looked at his blonde companion, who was busy mixing exactly the right amount of milk into her to-go cup. Distracted, Erik shot him an empathetic smile before he turned back to Logan. The pressure at the back of his mind was gone.

Erik would have liked to ask Logan if he by now counted some telepaths amongst his enemies, but then decided it would probably be for the best to just put the notebook away without a further look at it and forget it ever happened. He would just have to be even more alert from now on.

~*~

”He noticed me!”

”Sugar, believe me, he was just looking around. He probably thought you were a bored husband, always waiting for his wife to get a move on.”

”He thought about that… _that_ on purpose! And held the thought, like he knew what he was doing.”

”You worry too much. Worries make wrinkles.” A tut. “He probably just liked the image. Hah! Howlett has a boyfriend, who’d have thought. Explains why seducing info out of him didn’t work. He’s a loyal watchdog if I’ve ever seen one. Well, at least the most loyal mutt.”

”I hope you’re right.”

”I’m always right, honey. But you know what? Now that we know, we might have leverage the next time.”

”True, although… I think we ought to find out some more before we make real plans.”

~*~

Erik and Logan split up after breakfast, having figured out that they both had still some things to take care of and that they would stand a better chance to get it done if split up. Erik had ordered Logan, if he needed or at least wanted art supplies anyway, to buy three thick graphite crayons and a block of the flimsiest decent paper he could find. Whatever else it was Logan needed, he had ensured Erik that he did not mind taking on that errand and that he would be back in time for them to meet up to have dinner together.

On his own, Erik decided to go about his errands by need instead of the quickest route, buying a set of clothes to last him about a week and then a duffle about the same size as Logan’s. The last time they had been traveling together had taught Erik very quickly that Logan knew relatively well how much one could take along and how much would be too much. On his way to the drugstore, Erik remembered that he still had some of his students’ work in his bag and stopped by the nearest post office to just mail it to his own office. It seemed more practical than stopping by there himself, especially since he still had the feeling he was being watched.

When he was finally done and had gone over his mental list of things he needed that didn’t require bullets or could be bought cheaper and with less questions the day after tomorrow like knives, Erik still had about half an hour until he expected Logan back, probably more considering just how easily Logan had absorbed all non-punctual aspects of foreign cultures. He decided that it couldn’t hurt to swing by the nearest bookstore to waste time. At least, it was probably better than waiting for Logan and getting more annoyed by the minute.

And, he thought as he was browsing the shelves with foreign language books and learning materials for something new and interesting, he should probably take a look at the travel section. If he had understood Logan correctly, he meant to play the start of their trip, at the very least, off as some kind of couple vacation. It would only help the ruse, he argued with himself, if he bought a travel guide. It had very little to do with masochism and even less with a need to be amused at misinformation of others.

Busy searching for the right section in the bookstore, he only noticed the man standing at the right shelve when he was about two paces away from him. Erik blinked. It was the same man he’d seen in the café the same morning. He filed that carefully away under interesting. It took a lot not to get very very suspicious when he noticed that the man was leafing through a travel guide about Mongolia.

As Erik stopped, the man looked up, taking a just barely too long second to look surprised and then smiled winningly at Erik. “What a coincidence.” His voice was soft and pleasant with an English accent.

”Indeed,” Erik, who didn’t believe in coincidence, said. He pointed at the book in the man’s hand. “And we seem to have the same taste in travel.”

”Oh, do we?” The man lifted the book and turned it to look at the cover. “My fianceé insisted I have to find a place to go where none of her girlfriends have been to before. So I just picked something at random. Is there anything you could recommend?”

Small talk. Erik tried not to groan inwardly. “Chu-” Erik cleared his throat, rephrasing to let it sound slightly more English and a lot less like he was thinking of cyrillic letters. “Khuvsgul4. Ehrm, lake Khuvsgul is very pretty. But still big enough as a tourist destination that you might find some English speaking guides. I think.”

”Have you been there before?” The man leaned closer in a way that set alarm bells off in the back of Erik’s mind that had nothing to do with violence and a lot with flirting. “I’d much rather get tips from a real person than a book.” On cue, he snapped the travel guide shut and put it back on the shelve.

In his mind, Erik counted up from one to stop himself from taking a step back. “Not for a decade,” he lied. “But I hear it hasn’t changed much. A friend of mine was there just last year.”

”I assume the capital is like cities everywhere,” the man purred and it was very definitely a purr as much as Erik wished it wasn’t.

Erik shrugged, finally giving in to the urge to step back a little. “Depends what you mean by everywhere. But yeah, I think, there are quite a few cities at least similar.” He tried to remain vague enough.

”So, it’s not worth a stay? Should we travel directly on to that… that lake you mentioned earlier?”

Again, Erik shrugged. “As short-term tourists? There won’t be much to do without at least some language skills, probably. I mean, you could always hire a guide, but…”

For a second, there was a gleam in the man’s eyes, but it was gone before Erik had mustered enough courage to dare look closely at the clear blue. It was like Erik had said something that had been deemed important. It made him uncomfortable. “Can’t I ask you to help us out? You seem to know a lot.” He put a hand on Erik’s arm.

As if he’d gotten burned, Erik pulled his arm back, getting some space between them. He wasn’t doing it on purpose but his heart was racing as well as his thoughts, suddenly very occupied with the need to run. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do that anymore.” Stepping around the man, he took the travel guide book from the shelve and then fled, leaving the man behind, looking stunned.

~*~

”Talking to him was a total failure.”

”Uh-hu.”

”He ran away from me!”

”Uh-hu.”

”Before he even told me his name! Are you even listening?”

”No.” A laptop was turned on the small coffee table. It showed a page hosted by the local university, listing the faculty of their oriental institute. Right in the middle was Erik’s portrait, next to a list of choice credentials and his official title. “While you were out fooling around, I was doing some actual work.” An eyeroll. “Which means using google image search and then facebook. Bless modern technology for making it this easy. Our friend’s _boyfriend_ is a professor, specialized in exactly what we’re all looking for.” The inflection of the word boyfriend made it clear the speaker did not consider this to be true for a second.

Blue eyes scanned the lines of text. A low, impressed whistle. “I _knew_ he was hiding how much he knew but… wow, that’s a lot of work for a man that age…”

”We’re still suspecting him to know nothing about what kind of person Howlett is?”

”I don’t think so. Nothing in his mind… no, I really don’t think he knows.”

”Good.”

~*~

Logan was late. Erik had expected him to be late, but he was still reeling and had wished Logan would, just for a single time in his life, be early. He clenched his shaking hand into a fist.

When Logan finally did show up, Erik had been just about to leave and hide in their hotel until he felt better, instead of standing around on a crowded street where he thought everyone could see exactly how he was feeling, against all rational thought and proof. Logan, however, picked up on it immediately, showing once again that his instincts worked just as well when it came to things Erik usually didn’t say.

He didn’t hug Erik, didn’t even touch him, he just stood right in front of him, blocking out most of Erik’s view and asked softly, “What happened?”

Erik just shook his head. He had told Logan once before, it hadn’t gone over nearly as badly as he’d thought back then but… “I don’t want you to get jealous.” It wasn’t meant as a joke and it sounded far from it.

Still, Logan laughed, obvious in his attempt to lighten Erik’s mood. “Girl?”

”The guy from the café this morning. The one by the milk bar, with the blonde girlfriend.” It sounded even more suspicious now that Erik had said it out loud. He just should have decked the guy. Or told him in no uncertain terms that while Logan might be a known danger, he too was dangerous if he wanted to be and there were no living people left who could estimate just how bad it could get.

”You... “ Logan lowered his voice to little more than the noise of breathing. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

”He touched me. Like he meant to take me away to some private place and…”

Suddenly, Logan’s expression became stormy. “And?”

”I left.”

”Good.” A deep breath. “We eat at the hotel,” Logan declared. “Any preferences? Ordering in? Room service? Take away?”

”No room service.” Erik couldn’t stand the thought of having to allow somebody into a personal space again this soon, not even a hotel boy into a hotel room.

Logan nodded. He bent down to pick his own shopping bag up together with Erik’s.

~*~

It wasn’t all that early anymore when they reached the airport, hours before their flight would take off. They had, however, already spent quite a lot of time in a full train to get to the airport. Logan looked tired, as if he hadn’t just slept four hours leaned against Erik’s shoulder. The hour he had been awake before had been spent mostly to complain about how he definitely shouldn’t be awake at five a.m.

Erik had insisted they needed to be at the airport with more than plenty enough time for security checks, right when the counter for the check-in of their flight opened. Logan had only protested feebly, giving in to the very rational argument that he especially needed the time. It hadn’t stopped him from grumbling about metal detectors all the while they packed their bags.

Checking in went smoothly. The line on the security check was long, though moving quickly. Erik checked his personal magnetic field to be just where it was supposed to be, slightly nervous as he removed what little metal he had on his body as well as his shoes. Once, when he had been particularly tired after an almost thirty hour flight, he had broken one of the gates at an airport causing him to almost miss his last flight to finally get home and sleep. He didn’t want a repeat of that, especially since having Logan in line directly behind him it could cause questions and suspicions he had no nerves for.

As expected, he did get through the security screening just fine, despite the brief moment of raised eyebrow from the officer monitoring the bags. Erik pulled a face. He was still not sure how his powers interfered with magnetometers, mostly because he never had any opportunity to play around with one. It was, however, evident that they did

Just when Erik started to put all his things back on his person and picked up his carry-on, he could hear the telltale noise of handheld devices signaling metal. A slightly confused officer was moving a metal detector over Logan’s body, obviously not understanding why the machine never stopped making noises. A second officer was called, then a third. Logan looked at Erik for a moment and rolled his eyes. Erik just mouthed the word “gate” back at him and decided it would be for the best not to wait around where he was getting in the way of everyone. Logan was a grown man, perfectly capable of handling annoyances and navigating airports. If he wasn’t, Erik reasoned, he’d still be easy to find, either by his metal bones or just by the screams and alarms.

The gate at which they’d board their flight was still empty, with about one and a half hours left to wait. Erik settled down in a seat in a corner and took out something to read.

Soon after, a stern looking woman sat down diagonally across from him. He looked at her for a moment, mostly because he was reaching out to find out if Logan was still with security, but she didn’t pay him any heed so he returned to his reading. She just took out a laptop from her carry on and started to type with irregular pauses.

It were only twenty minutes until boarding, when Erik could finally feel Logan walk towards the gate. His posture told Erik without having to see him that he was in a very bad mood. Erik considered just putting in earphones and pretend Logan wasn’t there when he showed up. The waiting area in front of the gate had filled up by then and the stewardesses at the desk were just starting to set up for boarding.

”I hate security screenings, you know?” Logan rumbled when he was standing in front of Erik, ten minutes before boarding was scheduled to begin.

Erik just nodded. He had noticed the typing had stopped when Logan had come into view and was now wondering why. The button pushing had been soothing and unnerving at the same time.

”Next time, I just cut some fucking bone clean of flesh and show them,” Logan went on, knowing that Erik was only partially listening.

”Language,” Erik murmured. “Two more and you’re done for the time being.”

”Two more?” Logan groaned. A line had started to form at the counter but Erik saw no reason to move yet. Their seats were far enough to the front that there was little need to hurry.

”We have some layover in Beijing, didn’t you check that before booking?” Erik sighed. “There are no direct flights.”

”And you should know, huh?”

”You act like I don’t travel for professional reasons. Two and a half hours is pretty short to be honest.” Erik sighed. “I remember having to get to Nanyuan5 for another flight in about four hours once. Don’t complain.”

”Why not? It’s not like it’s you having all the trouble.”

Erik looked up at Logan. “How’s your travel Mandarin?”

Logan frowned.

”See? There’s the problem. I will have the trouble of yelling at people until they get a translator for you.” Erik looked at the shrinking queue. “We should get moving.”

”I just hate air travel,” Logan grumbled, defeated.

Hesitating for a moment, Erik put a hand on Logan’s arm, trying not to think of the last time somebody had touched him like that. “Me too. C’mon. In about twenty hours, it’ll be behind us.”

~*~

Early mornings in the steppe were surprisingly cold, Logan though was he trailed behind Erik through the small airport arrivals hall to what he assumed was a taxi stand. He was almost sure Erik hadn’t slept an hour on either their flights, mostly since Logan had not been woken up by any stewardesses, and Erik had looked grumpier with each meal Logan had woken up for on their first flight. Neither during their brief stay in Beijing nor on their second flight Erik seemed to have fallen asleep either. He looked it, too, making Logan almost wish he could do the talking instead of Erik. As it was, however, Erik was communicating in a language Logan couldn’t understand a single word of, though it sounded like it was mostly o, u and noises Logan had only heard in expressions like yech6 before. As Erik was talking to a taxi driver, he only turned to Logan once, asking for the hostel address which Logan handed over wordlessly. After that, they were ushered into the car and driven into the city.

After they’d checked in, which meant Erik had checked in for the both of them with the young lady behind the desk of their hostel, they went up to their room first. Erik sat down heavy on one of the beds, looking really tired. “Wanna nap first?” Logan asked softly.

Erik shook his head, not looking up. “I’ll be alright. It’s better if I don’t sleep until tonight. Makes the jetlag less hard on me.”

Logan looked at him, a little worried. “Ok, fine,” he sighed. Erik very certainly had done this before, he hadn’t navigated the airport like somebody arriving for the first time. He should know how to deal. “What now, then?”

”We go find an ATM to get some money and then buy the rest of our gear, so we’re ready to head off tomorrow?” Erik rubbed his eyes. “And maybe find me a coffee somewhere.”

Logan nodded.

~*~

It was already afternoon when Erik led them over a market to find something to eat at one of the stalls. They had finished buying what Erik had declared they would need for a trip into the steppe. Logan was a little worried. Erik didn’t look much good anymore, probably because he should have been sleeping hours ago. But he wouldn’t hear anything of it and Logan knew better than to argue. So Logan had decided he would be carrying what needed carrying and otherwise keep his mouth shut. Erik had promised, after all, that after they had bought some street food, they’d go back to their hostel.

Something at one of the stalls caught Logan’s eye, mostly because the sun had been reflected by it directly in his eyes. He turned, irritated, for a moment until the man in the stall put the object down and showed another, less reflecting one to the same customer. When he looked back up, Erik was gone, swallowed by the crowd.

”Don’t turn around,” said a female voice behind him. Something hard was poking in his side, making him wish he was at least wearing a leather jacket for protection, not just the thin shirt he actually wore. “This is a tranquilizer gun.”

”Oh, yeah? Liar.” The woman didn’t smell like she was lying, nor did she smell excited in any way. It made Logan worry. He flexed his fingers, ready to turn around and shred her.

”Are you really willing to risk finding out who’s faster? My finger or your claws?” The poking got more insistent. “You and I, we will have a little walk, then we talk and then, maybe, I let you go back to your hostel. If I’m satisfied with your answers, that is.”

~*~

Erik noticed Logan stopping suddenly, but when he tried to turn, the people around him moved in such a way that he had no chance but to walk on. When he finally managed to escape the crowd into some empty space between two stalls, he had walked quite a bit, far enough to not see Logan anymore. He cursed softly.

”Those are _not_ nice words. Yiddish?”

Erik spun around, his eyes narrowing immediately. Without even thinking too much about it, he reached out to small, unneeded metal parts in the vicinity. “German. Also good for cursing and at least some people here understand me,” Erik grumbled. He had recognized the voice and smooth English accent before he’d even turned, so it came as no surprise who was standing in front of him now. “What in all three main hells are you doing here? Are you an especially stupid stalker?”

The young man raised his hands defensively. “I just want to talk. And no, I’m neither stupid nor a stalker, I just saw you pass by a moment ago. I hadn’t known you’d be headed to this part of the world so soon.”

Erik couldn’t feel Logan anywhere nearby anymore and that alone made him nervous. Combined with how tired he was made for a dangerous combination. “Listen, I don’t have time for this…” He took a step forward, but shied away from stepping into the man’s space. Their last meeting was still too fresh on his mind. And now, something was stopping him from expanding his sensory magnetic field.

”Logan’s with a friend. You don’t need to go see him.” The words were spoken slowly and with care, like a magic spell. It made the hair on the back of Erik’s neck stand up.

”Your friend? Or actually his?” Erik growled.

”Does it matter? If he’s forcing you into anything, I’m offering you an out. He’s doing… rather illegal things, most of the time. In some countries, he’s been a wanted man for a very long time, and the list is getting longer each year. He’s no good.”

Erik bit back a snort. “Forcing me? To what? Logan? I could snap him in half with a thought and he knows.”

The man blinked at him. “You don’t care that he’s a criminal? A thief, a scoundrel, a grave robber and many, many more things in the same vein?”

Erik rolled his eyes. He had the feeling the protests to the defense of the man’s intelligence had been spoken much too soon. “He’s also desecrated temples,” he added helpfully.

The man’s jaw dropped for a moment. “But… You didn’t… you don’t… why are you here with him then?”

”To stop him from destroying something I might be interested in?” Erik shrugged. “He asked, I came along. I didn’t think too much about what other people would think of it.”

”You don’t even see him as…” The man gave up mid-sentence.

”See him as what? All you said before? I do, I just don’t actually mind it.” For a second, probably because the man was too stunned to stop him, Erik felt Logan’s bones, still warm and surrounded by living flesh, in an alley nearby. There was also something that felt distinctly like a gun. Then, his sense disappeared again, leaving behind only a headache. “You’re the damn telepath reading my mind in the café two days ago,” he snapped.

”You can’t prove that.” The man ran a hand through his brown locks. “Honestly, did you really think anyone would believe you and Logan are involved?” He waved his hand. “That mental image back there. Laced bone deep in discomfort. And then the way you reacted to a simple touch by me. You’re anything but gay, so why’d you even agree to such a ruse?”

Erik clenched his fists. He took a few deep breaths, emptying his mind as well as he could. Working on instinct, without his active mind getting into the way, was something Logan had taught him long ago, mostly by example. “You know, Mr very smart not a stalker, for a ruse, more than ten years is a very long time, don’t you think,” he said, soft in tone and volume. Below his consciousness, anger reared its red hot head. How dare he decide from just two brief meetings and a glimpse into his mind that he and Logan were not a couple. “You’re right in one thing though. I’m not homosexual.”

Erik’s body jerked forward without a thought. His fist connected with the telepath’s solar plexus before his opponent could stop him. He pushed past him, into the crowd, at the same time filling his mind with the lyrics of an epic poem his teacher back in his student days had made them learn by heart. It had to be harder to find him if he was just thinking the same language as everyone else around. Carefully, with well practiced ease, he also bottled his anger back up, years of training put to good used. He took a few deep breaths. Thought about vegetables and the stalls around him.

The part of his mind always listening to the sing of metal around him guided his steps to the edge of the market, in search of one certain alley.

 

 

* * *

 

1\. Epic songs are a staple of central Asian orature/oral traditions. Most of the tales and epics in the songs have been told for a very long time and famous singers play a role equal to poets in the west for the cultural heritage of e.g. Mongolia. You can listen to one [here](https://www.google.de/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=video&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjIjrLKnqTQAhUC8ywKHeqfB38QtwIIHjAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DZPVyKJinpf4&usg=AFQjCNE_Q89awzWwFwAsy_mfLshueQhB2A&bvm=bv.138493631,d.bGg) ↩  
2. [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epic_of_King_Gesar). It’s one of the most important epics in Tibet and Mongolia about a cultural hero (or, if you read scientific works about it, probably inspired by Julius Caesar.↩  
3\. Signs or characters carved into stone. Examples for Mongolia [here](http://s125.photobucket.com/user/arc_mn/media/Petroglyphs-Mongolia/chariots.jpg.html) ↩  
4\. Very pretty lake in Northern Mongolia. I picked a common English transliteration for it, not a scientific one. To be quite honest, the transliterations offered for both Cyrillic and Uighur by wikipedia scare me a little.↩  
5\. Beijing Nanyuan. Has mostly domestic flights and is a super tiny airport in the south of Beijing surrounded by an area that looks like a Russian military complex if memory serves right.↩  
6\. I cannot describe this sound well, since I have never heard it produced by somebody who doesn’t speak a language that has this sound. But here’s the But here’s the [wikipedia ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voiceless_velar_fricative)article on it. ↩


	3. What is tied by tie and knot can be divided by knife and blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Logan go on an excusion.

# ᠣᠮ ᠳᠡᠭᠡᠷᠡᠰᠦᠷᠡ ᠬᠣᠯᠪᠣᠭᠰᠠᠨ ᠢ ᠨᠤᠲᠤᠭᠠ ᠬᠠᠶᠢᠴᠢ ᠪᠠᠷ ᠲᠠᠰᠤᠯᠳᠠᠭ ᠶᠤᠮ᠃

Erik came to a halt at the mouth of a narrow side road leading away from the market. He could see Logan with his back to him, a woman standing very close to him. Erik recognized her posture. He’d seen it before, in similar circumstances. Acting on instinct, he started running again, ripping the rifle from her hands and throwing it up in the air carelessly, hoping it would land on one of the flat roofs around and not on the ground for her to pick it up again. Without slowing down a second, he pushed her out of the way and grabbed Logan’s arm, pulling him along physically as well as with his powers. It took a second or two, but then Logan got running on his own, following Erik has he navigated small roads and crowds with practiced ease. Only little thought was wasted on the fact that them running was luckily mostly chalked up to “strange foreigner behavior” by the people they passed or almost ran over.

Eventually, Erik had to slow down, pulling Logan behind an overflowing dumpster. He tried to catch his breath as quietly as possible. The woman had been following them for a while, Erik had kept tabs on the metal on her body, coins, buttons, shoes, for that exact reason but she seemed to have lost them. Yet at the same time, he didn’t want to take any chances. He was certain enough she was working with the telepath. It was just as well that he could think in various languages that didn’t have to include English.

”What the hell?” Logan eventually breathed out. He seemed mostly fine, being in way better shape than Erik, despite all the cardio and trips to the fitness studio Erik did. And, Erik remembered, maybe a bit late, mostly immune to telepathy.

”Do you think you” Erik had to breathe. His lungs hurt. “Would you find your way back to the hotel on your own?”

Logan nodded, confusion and concern battling for space on his expression. “I think?”

”Good.” Erik leaned against Logan. “Because I think, I’d prefer to take a bus now and pass out, you know?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

”Telepath,” Erik explained. “And, I’m really tired and ready to sleep now.”

Logan snorted slightly. He nodded anyway.

Tugging at Logan’s shirt to make him follow, Erik lead the way to the nearest bus stop.

~*~

Erik woke up early the next morning. He vaguely remembered getting on the bus and not finding an empty seat there. He thought he might have nodded off leaning against Logan, but wasn’t sure enough. They’d obviously managed to get back to their hotel, but how was beyond Erik. Logan was still snoring gently next to him on the narrow single bed.

Still feeling somewhat sleepy himself, he picked up the tablet from his bag and navigated through the hotel log-in for the wifi, then started to search for nearby car rentals. Just as the day before, he did his best to mostly think in Khalkha Mongolian. He had his preferred rental service for a day or two, but their trip would most likely be longer than that, rather weeks than days. There was always the possibility to just travel by bus to a spot close by, but Erik’s motivation to hike around a desert or the steppe when they could just as well drive was smaller than a grain of sand. Anyway, he wasn’t too keen on traveling anywhere but the usual tourist spots by public transport, mostly because he understood the comments made loudly about him by surprised people. He could do without them. And without the questions by tour guides if he’d even understand anything, being very obviously foreign.

There were one or two rental services that had decent looking sites online and prices within budget. He picked the one that explicitly said that they also had jeeps and, if asked for, motorbikes, and wrote down their address. By then, Logan was also slowly waking up.

”You’re up early,” Logan yawned. “Still jet lagged?”

Erik shook his head. “Just more used to early rises than you.”

The skin around Logan’s eyes became wrinkled. “Alright, alright, gotcha.” He stretched. “So, we’re leaving town today?”

”Unless you’d rather stay to have another date with your mysterious admirer. I for one could do without mine.” It still made Erik feel slightly icky to even think about the two previous meetings. “Speaking of which, he told me how bad a guy you are and that you’ll get me jailed or killed. Or killed in jail, not sure what exactly he was indicating. Friend of yours?”

Logan blinked slowly, once, twice. “Uh, what was his description again?”

”Head smaller than me, brown floppy hair, telepath, English upper class accent, probably has enough money to buy whatever he wants by the way his clothes looked.” Erik waved his hand. “Slightly sleazy in hitting on me.”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Oh,” he eventually said after a while. Whatever he’d been realizing, it had taken a bit to work out. “Oh, so… okay, didn’t know those two were working together now.” He shook his head. “Hey, you think you could find a way to keep telepaths out for good? Or find something to keep them out? I know I’d read something about the Chinese actually selling gadgets openly.”

”He’s that bad?” Erik tilted his head. “I’m sure I could ask around in the stores selling electronics nearby.”

Logan shook his head. “Not him, the woman’s usual partner. And those two don’t split. So if you think having him in your mind is unpleasant, you don’t want to meet the other one. She’ll just rifle through, filter what she needs, and then leave you to figure out how to think again. Well, when she’s in a bad mood at least, I’ve only seen her do it once. But she has no limits or qualms about using her powers in any way possible.”

Erik gave a low whistle. “Wow, you made some shitty enemies over the years.”

”None of them are always enemies.” Logan shrugged. “If they’d asked, we could just work together. But…” He pulled a face. “I don’t like how he rattled you.”

”Can it.” Erik rolled his eyes. Deep down, he was still pleased that Logan seemed jealous or at least protective of him. “He thinks I’m straight.”

Logan laughed. “And here I thought he was a telepath. Ah, well, Charles, that’s his name by the way, is ok. Usually. Maybe he just thought that by hitting on you or by telling you how I’m the big bad wolf from Red Riding Hood, he’d get you on his side more easily. We did some… jobs. In the Middle East together before.”

”I’m not helping if he’s in for a private collection.” Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And without me, you’ll never find anything.” He didn’t say that the other non negotiable term was that this Charles wouldn’t touch him without permission again, but Logan didn’t need the reminder, usually.

”He’s not. Unless you find that Chinggis or whoever was a mutant.”

Erik shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first one posing that theory.”

”You _really_ dislike him, huh?” Logan sighed.

Erik shrugged. “Ok, but what about that woman and her partner?”

”She’s… ex-CIA? Ex-MI5? Not sure which. Scottish by the sound of her name. Moira MacTaggert. Best shot I’ve ever met and cold blooded, incredibly hard to rattle. She’s usually working with… uhm… Emma, I don’t know the last name of the witch. The telepath I warned you about.” Logan looked unhappy. “I’d rather not have her as an enemy, she can be scary.”

The corner of Erik’s mouth twitched. “Afraid of a girl?”

”Of her? She poked a gun at my back just yesterday! And had the sense to load it with tranquilizer.”

”So she’s smart.” Erik nodded, more to himself. A part of him found the idea of somebody who had enough sense to know shooting Logan with actual bullets had no sense quite sympathetic. It was the part of him that also got frustrated at freshmen who didn’t even know what a genitive was, so he usually just ignored it. “Did I get that right, we’re working to not let an ex-spy and two telepaths get to an invaluable treasure before us?”

Logan nodded, somewhat glum. “Pretty much. If I was alone…”

Erik gave him a long _look_. “If you were alone, you’d still be sleeping off tranquilizer. And you wouldn’t know where to look in the first place.”

”I don’t know where to look even now.”

Erik shrugged. “But I do.”

”And you’re not going to tell me?”

”I don’t know exactly. Only that we’ll travel South today. After that… We’ll find the spot, I hope.”

”You hope,” Logan echoed.

”If you can make sense of ‘the king’s steep side’ and similar expressions, be my guest, interpret your partial source yourself. Blurry Google Earth images only helps so much.” Erik narrowed his eyes. “...wait… telepaths don’t get through your thick skull, right? Because of all the metal?”

Logan shrugged. “Most likely. Why?”

Erik got up, walked over and sat down next to Logan. “Hold still.” He raised his hands to the sides of Logan’s head and closed his eyes.

”What are you doing?” Logan pulled a face. Something felt off, but it wasn’t the usual vibration he sometimes felt when Erik was using his powers in close proximity. It felt far less comfortable. More like he was going to be sick if it went on for too long.

”Shut up. Need to concentrate.”

Logan held still, waiting patiently for Erik to finish whatever he was doing. He even made a point of fidgeting as little as possible.

After a long while, Erik let finally go. He sighed.

”You alright?” Logan asked.

Erik nodded, not looking at him. He was breathing a little faster than usual. “I think so.”

”What did you do?” Logan rubbed his forehead. Everything still felt somewhat off.

It took a moment for Erik to answer. “I… tried to work out… what makes you hard to crack… for telepaths that is.” He blinked a few times. “I think… It feels somewhat like those blocking devices. The university makes us wear them to exams. I… because of that, I prefer to just let them have take home exams and term papers. That, and because translating is hard.” Finally, he looked back up at Logan. “I don’t want to wear them, if I can just try and replicate the electromagnetic field. Uhm… that is, I dislike them because I can’t touch them with my powers and it makes me feel itchy all over.”

Logan merely nodded.

”I think I can… with some scrap metal, I can replicate something close enough that doesn’t make me wish I could rip both the device and my skin under it off.” Carefully, he shifted his body weight forward, just so he could just barely lean against Logan. Logan could feel the familiar hum of Erik’s powers on his arm. “It won’t stop any intrusion with force and intent, but it’ll make me harder to pick up on, I hope.”

Logan’s arm fitted snugly around Erik’s shoulders. “Good enough, I’d say. Need a minute?”

Erik nodded. The unusual, filigrane use of his powers still felt draining at the best of times. Having to worry about hurting Logan while he did had only made it worse.

~*~

Erik left Logan to wait in the car after they’d checked out and go to the cat rental Erik had picked out. Logan had been forbidden to touch the wheel, or anything, mostly because Erik didn’t believe him when he said he had a valid licence and knew how to drive jeeps. Erik had promised he’d only be a few minutes, but that didn’t mean Logan was pretty bored waiting.

Erik came back with a pair of hats that looked very much like cowboy hats. He handed one over to Logan, before taking out a perfect globe of shiny metal and doing something to the hat he’d kept. When he was eventually satisfied, he put it on.

Driving out of the city took time. There wasn’t as much traffic as Logan had seen in other places, but it was drudging along, with the occasional motorbike based vehicle rumbling by, or speeding past, or swinging under its precarious load from left to right. Erik had said they’d take a highway south, but it didn’t take long before it dawned to Logan that outside the city, the term road was awarded rather freely to any strip of land that got passed by trucks more than once a week. Erik didn’t seem bothered or even surprised by that. He just looked mostly straight ahead and followed dirt roads and nondescript paths until they reached the paved road.

After almost four hours, Erik pulled over in a small town. He rubbed his face. “Need a break?” Logan asked.

Erik had turned around and was searching through his bag which he had stowed away behind his seat. ”No, need to check the… where is it… there we go… need to know where we’ll have to go from here.” He opened his notebook and leafed through it for the right page. “Hey, do you think we’ll have enough water for at least a week? I forgot to make sure yesterday and we’re heading for the desert. If you haven’t guessed by all the dust and sand around. Or by the aimag’s name.”

”Gobi,” Logan said cheerily “I’m starting to remember a little cyrillic.”

”Well done. But it’s a v not a b.” Erik was too busy reading to even fake interest. “Now remember uigur as well, please and then phagspa and I’m almost proud.”

Logan decided it would be wisest to just ignore Erik for now and go check on their water and food supply. He thought they’d passed what had looked like a store a while back, but he wasn’t sure.

When he returned from his check that had revealed that Erik was worrying over pretty much nothing, Erik had closed his notebook and was staring off in the distance, his lips moving slightly.

”Okay,” Erik breathed out. “Okay. I think I vaguely know what direction we’ll have to go in. But… be ready for me to sometimes stop or pull over and ask locals, alright?”

Logan nodded. “Provisions are in order.”

”Good.” Erik dropped the notebook into Logan’s lap.

It turned out to be a long, slow rest of the day. Without a decent speed, Logan started to notice the heat around them more and more. It was worse when Erik stopped to drag him out on a hill and look around for hallmarks or to just throw a stone on a large pile of stones. Only a handful of times they came across any sign of human life. Once, or maybe twice, Erik stopped to talk to people they passed. It lead to a long conversation with starts and stops, both men gesturing at each other while Logan merely waited. When Erik got back, he turned the car around and drove off into another direction, a bit faster and like he had an actual destination for once. After they’d reached it, it was back to trial and error based wandering again.

As the sun started set, Erik stopped the car by the side of the road. “We should set up camp while we can still see a thing.”

”You weren’t kidding when you said we’d have to camp out,” Logan sighed. The day had drained his energy more than a day spent in a car should. Sleeping on the ground somewhat made it all worse.

”We could drive a while and try and see if we come across a settlement, if you wanna ask to sleep in a jurt.” Erik poked his head back in the car through the window. “Less whining more helping me with the tent. It’s your treasure we’re looking for.”

”I know, I know,” Logan grumbled, getting out of the car and stretching. “And you just wanna camp here next to the road?”

Erik shrugged. “Next to the road has a higher chance of solid ground. I don’t wanna take chances.”

Logan groaned. More often than not, it had little sense fighting Erik seriously. Right now, Erik was probably even right, which made it worse.

Setting up the small tent was quickly done, even though by the time they were finished it was almost dark. The sun had set faster than Logan had expected. And it was getting cold, too. He shivered.

”Go get some more layers of clothes on,” Erik ordered. He had already pulled a sweater and a jacket over his t-shirt.”It’s getting cold at night.”

A while later, in the darkness of their tent, Logan shifted a little closer to Erik, as much as that was possible in a tent that was only barely made for two people their size anyway. “Do you think we’re close?”

He could hear a sleepy groan from Erik. “Closer than yesterday. And, I think, I recognize some geographical features from your print. Maybe another day, two at max, and we should be at the spot described. Might be we’ll have to walk for that, though.”

”Hey, I never asked, but… why’re we searching for this seal this far south and getting closer to the Chinese border each hour?” Logan yawned. He was tired, although not tired enough to sleep. Listening to Erik ramble about history was just about what he thought he’d need. It had something comforting to it.

Erik rolled around again so he was lying on his back instead of turned away from Logan. “You remember how Chinggis Khaan’s successors went and conquered the then struggling dynasty of what in modern day is China?” He didn’t bother with too many names, knowing Logan’s bad memory for foreign historical names. “Well, after about a hundred years, they failed to hold onto power there for much longer. The last emperor of the Mongol dynasty left what’s today Beijing and fled… North, mostly. It’s modern Inner Mongolia. He died there, too. But his son went on back to the traditional Mongol capital and that’s where that text you found comes into play. It talks about how they decided to, you know, lose some baggage in the mountains by the desert on their way and then wrote some sort of description for someone to go and retrieve it. I think. Or probably to make sure their baggage they lost for safe keeping stayed, you know, safe. They still had quite a few battles with the following Dynasty at the time I think the text was written. I mean, I cannot prove it’s as early as I think it is, since the written language hasn’t changed enough to make it easy, but… some details in it sound a lot like the writer has seen what he wrote about. ...Logan?”

Somewhen, while Erik had been talking, Logan had fallen asleep. Sighing, Erik rolled closer to him, settling down for sleep as well.

~*~

After noon on the third day since they’d left Ulaanbaatar they left the car behind. Erik had noticed a rock and stopped, only to then announce to Logan that he was certain there had been a monastery nearby once. Considering they were at the foot of a hill, Erik made the executive decision to just walk the rest of the way.

”Do you know what we’re looking for here?” Logan asked as they walked up the hillside, vaguely in the direction of a collection of rocks.

Erik shrugged. “Derelict walls?” He straightened his hat. “Anything, really. I _think_ this might just be the right spot, but I’m not sure until we find something to prove it. There are a lot of abandoned monasteries around.”

”I still don’t understand why you’re even sure it was a monastery.” They had reached the rocks. They looked like mostly rocks, at least at first glance, but Erik kneeled down in their shadow anyway.

Erik gave him a long flat look. “What else would a stone building be? There are temples and monasteries. If it’s not buddhist, it’s a tent. It’s about that simple.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Ok, fine. If you can’t tell me what to look out for, how about I’ll go up some more and see if I can find actual buildings? Or at least their walls?”

Erik nodded. “Just make sure to do a drawing of anything noteworthy. And rub off all inscriptions. ..unless they’re cyrillic, I guess we can ignore those.”

”Want me to draw a groundplan of the buildings, too?” Logan shook his head. “We’re not on some archeology excursion, you know?”

”Well, I’m not an archaeologist anyway.” Erik waved him away. He’d taken out his notebook and started comparing his notes to the surroundings, like he’d done several times before. Logan decided it would be best to just leave him be for the time being.

He walked up to the crest of the hill and looked around. There weren’t many clouds in the sky and the air felt like it wouldn’t move for the rest of the week, or maybe longer. The dry heat was getting on Logan’s nerves. He stretched his sore limbs. All in all, he was happy enough to be out of the car doing something again, however dull.

He started wandering around, his glance turned to the ground, until he eventually found a rock poking out of the dusty ground. Its shape was very distinctly man-made, with plaster sticking to one side still. Diligently, Logan marked it down in his notebook, together with its relative position and estimated distance to the rocks Erik was still looking at . Then, he wandered on, only to repeat the process whenever he came across another rock. By the time he’d made his way around the summit and back to the rock he’d started at, he was almost certain that there had once been a circular building where he was standing now. It couldn’t have been big, not more than a single room with space for three, maybe four people that didn’t necessarily want to get an intimate knowledge of each other. Logan wondered if he should have words with Erik about his definition of monastery or if that’d only turn into a linguistic lecture. Probably the latter.

In the distance, close to the horizon, a cloud of dust was rising. All Logan could do was hoping they wouldn’t get into the middle of a dust storm anytime soon.

Erik had wandered a bit off from the initial rocks but seemed still mostly occupied by his own thoughts. Logan watched him for a while. It had always been rare to see Erik unaware of his attention and Logan enjoyed it, maybe especially because it didn’t happen all that often.

Eventually, Logan returned to looking around the ground. Judging mainly by experience, he opted for exploring what once had been the interior. He didn’t expect to find much, but when his steps began to sound faintly different, he bend down to brush some dust away. The search turned up only some charred wood and what looked like an old camp fire. Probably, Logan considered as he marked the fire on his makeshift ground plan, it had been the fireplace of the monastery. He vaguely remembered the makeup of the one of two he had been to back when he’d been in Mongolia the last time. It fit.

Other than that, he couldn’t turn up anything in the interior. It was as if before the site had been abandoned, or destroyed, everything, however much or little, had been taken out and away. He noted it down, then added a question mark after that because he wasn’t entirely sure. But he could tell Erik to scan the area with his own powers later.

Eventually, Logan started to circle out from the place of the former building. As much as it bored him, being diligent lead oftentimes to better and quicker results than just following his gut. As long as he had the time to do things properly, he had made a point of actually doing them that way. And, judging by Erik’s slow movement further down, they would be staying there the rest of the day anyway.

When he looked up the next time, the dust cloud in the distance had grown. If it’d keep on moving the way it did, it would be less than an hour to reach them. Logan shuddered. There wasn’t any reliable shelter anywhere he could see. They might wait it out in their car, but Logan wasn’t too eager to be locked in the jeep after.

Still, he took it as his cue to get something to drink and then go find Erik and make him drink as well. They had to have been out for a while now. Logan couldn’t remember when they’d last drunk. Probably a while before their stop. In any way, it was for the best to make sure that if Erik didn’t eat, he would at least not dehydrate too much.

He found Erik somewhere east of the rock formation they’d initially found. He was sitting next to a flat stone, a sheet of paper pressed flat on its surface and rubbing a graphite pencil across to copy the stone’s surface. He was frowning in concentration, which was different from his usual frown, even though Logan wasn’t sure how to describe the exact difference. Logan crouched down next to Erik, leaning the second water bottle against Erik’s leg and just waited until Erik was ready to spare some attention for him.

”Found anything?” Erik eventually asked. He unscrewed the bottle and drank in long, deep gulps. Logan watched.

”You were right about the monastery, temple, thing. Found what looked like stones that once were part of walls. Round shape, so that fits, too, right?”

Erik nodded. “Sounds about right.” He frowned at the paper he’d just used to copy the stone’s surface. “I’m not sure what to make of this.” He sighed, handing it over to Logan. “Reading material before bed, probably?”

Logan squinted. To him, it looked like drawings of saw blades, or maybe the bits of keys. “Probably,” he agreed vaguely. He watched Erik stare at the paper some more, his lips slowly moving.

Eventually, Erik looked up. “...did the monastery look like it had had a wooden floor?”

Logan shook his head. “Not that I could tell, no.”

”Weird.” Erik frowned. “You should be able to tell if it were.” He sighed, looked back down at the paper and then off in the distance. “Hey… do you mind looking up ahead for stone carvings?” His voice sounded like his thoughts were far away. “And for wood, too, I suppose.” He glanced to the hills around them, his lips moving again without a sound coming out.

Logan followed his glance, then looked down at the mostly full plastic bottle in Erik’s hands. “One condition: you finish that water before I go.”

Erik looked at the bottle like he’d forgotten about it. Rolling his eyes at Logan, just to show exactly how silly he thought Logan was acting, he finished it in one long draw. “There. Now hand me your bottle so I can put it in my bag for now and you don’t have to _forget_ it somewhere out here.”

”I’m not like that anymore.”

Erik took the empty bottle Logan still held out and put it away with his. “I know.” Eyes closed, Erik stretched. “You’re not researching land for mining companies anymore.”

”Are you telling me I’ve actually managed to change your mind about me?” Amusement glittered in Logan’s eyes.

Shaking his head, Erik reached up so he could pull himself back to his feet with the help of Logan’s arm. “I’m telling you I tried to pay attention.”

”Tried,” Logan echoed, still amused.

”Tried. You’re good at covering your tracks. And I mostly use my university internet connection these days.”

Logan followed Erik’s lips when he eventually pulled back before he stopped himself. Still, he tightened his grip around Erik’s hip for a moment, before letting go entirely.

”We should look around some more,” Erik eventually said, licking his lip. “Get something done before it gets dark and all.”

Logan merely nodded, still surprised what had come over Erik just then. “I’ll… uh… I’ll go and see if I can find… you know… wood… somewhere around here.”

Erik moved to stretch out his hand but pulled back in the last moment. In the end, he just nodded. “Just… don’t run off where I can’t see you.”

”Can’t you feel me, no matter what?” It was weird to have Erik request that all of a sudden.

Erik just shrugged. He looked sullen enough that Logan didn’t want to fight it.

”I’ll stay close enough to hear and see you,” Logan promised.

~~~

Just like the days before, the sun would be setting fast. But by now, Logan had gotten used to this again and was able to tell that they had one, two hours at maximum of daylight left. He straightened, stemmed his hands in his back and stretched. The cloud of dust he’d been watching had disappeared, or just missed them. Either way, he hadn’t been able to spot it in more than an hour. He had, however, managed to find a few carved symbols in some rocks and diligently copied them for Erik. And a few had found their way in his current notebook, mostly because he thought their shape was funny. They almost made for stories in his eyes.

As it was getting late, Logan looked around to where Erik was. Or where he had been, just ten minutes ago when he’d last checked on him. The hair on the back of Logan’s neck stood up. He took a step back, closer to the rock. The ground under his shoes sounded darker than the ground around had.

Logan froze. In combination with what Erik had told him to look for, this sound could only mean he shouldn't put any more weight onto that spot. He didn’t want to know if it could take all of it.

Something small whizzed by. Absent mindedly, Logan swatted at his arm at an insect. Weirdly enough, his arm felt numb where he thought he’d been bitten. The insect was hard and big and feathery, too. He looked down, noticing the arrow of a modern tranquilizer sticking in his forearm. That was when the second arrow hit, from much closer range and in his neck.

Logan turned and stumbled, toward his attacker. One step, two. His legs gave out. His knee hit the ground with a hollow thud.

And then… the gras rose past him, as in a cloud of splinters and wood dust, darkness swallowed him.


	4. Look at your friends and correct yourself; look at your shadow and fix your sash.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Logan are stuck in a hole while Erik and Moira either kill each other or become friends. Character development heavy chapter.

# ᠨᠥᠬᠥᠷ ᠢᠶᠡᠨ ᠬᠠᠷᠠᠵᠤ ᠪᠡᠶᠡ ᠪᠡᠨ᠂  
ᠰᠡᠭᠦᠳᠡᠷ ᠢᠶᠡᠨ ᠬᠠᠷᠠᠵᠤ ᠪᠥᠰᠡ ᠪᠡᠨ᠃

Erik only noticed the car as it stopped, a good twenty minute walk off. He wondered, briefly, if they’d meant to stop closer. They, whoever they were, had made a point of coming from the other side of the hill, which in Erik’s book made them suspicious already. But now that they’d stopped out of sight, it really made Erik worry. He reached into his bag. The well-used knife inside fitted snugly into his hand. He also made sure to pull his hat down, almost into his eyes, pressing the metal plates he’d fused into the brim against his temples with his personal magnetic field.

He looked up and over to Logan. Logan, who was still examining a rock formation as if nothing was wrong. For a brief second, Erik considered warning him. Just a shout. Logan had to be ready for a fight before anyone else. But… Erik hesitated. He remembered the rifle without bullets, but with arrows. Even Logan didn’t stand much of a chance against it. Which was the point. Erik cursed softly.

Even with his limited tactical knowledge, the mode of attack wasn’t hard to guess. If he’d be the one planning, he’d have somebody up at the crest of the hill. He could feel two sets of weapons, a knife and a pistol each, one rifle, move around near the car. It was a faint feeling, muddled by something else than the shield he’d erected around himself against telepathy. Considering the past few days, he was almost sure the shield was the only reason he could even feel them at all.

For more than ten minutes, Erik waited with bated breath more than he actually worked. Their timing was bad. With what Erik guessed was about an hour of daylight left, he’d hoped to get at least a little bit more of their examination done. Even though it didn’t look like it at the moment, he was sure there had to be a wooden flooring, maybe even a trap door around somewhere. This possible confrontation now would cost them precious time. It might just mean the difference between an early start at examining the underground complex their source strongly hinted at and not getting around to it until noon or later.

When they two, alleged, attackers reached the foot of the hill, Erik could feel their weapons move in separate directions. As expected, the rifle-carrier was going uphill, securing a good spot to aim there. The other, however, moved around the hill. Around the hill, in a way that would mean they’d get to Logan first. Erik suppressed a grim smile. The way both he and Logan were currently positioned, there wouldn’t be a quick clear shot from the hill crest. If there would be a fight, at least it wouldn’t be too easily decided by a sniping shot.

Erik took a moment to look at his bag, making sure most things inside where in their place, minimizing the noise they’d make. He shortened the strap in the hope it’d prevent it from too much flapping around. He didn’t want to have to leave his notes behind. The knife remained in his hand. For a moment he considered the can of hairspray he’d used as fixative as a weapon but decided against it. If Logan was right about the woman they’d met in UB, and there was no reason to doubt him, a weapon Erik wasn’t comfortable with was more a threat to him than to her.

For a few moments, Erik allowed himself to breathe. A couple of day ago, halfway around the world, it had been easy to be cocky about gunfights, in the relative safety of an anonymous hotel room. Now, out at the edge of the desert, it suddenly seemed all to possible that next time, the stray bullet wouldn’t go clean through his side, guided by his powers and quick, mindless reflexes. This time, it could just as well hit. And when the sedative was meant to knock Logan out, there was a good chance that on a normal, human metabolism, it would be deadly.

”No helping it,” Erik muttered, low under his breath. He’d needed to hear it, instead of just thinking it.

Steeling his resolve, he moved back around the rocks, away from Logan and the second attacker, always out of sight from the hill crest. He kept his height on the hill for a while, rounding it in the hopes of being able to flank the riflewoman, always keeping as close to the scattered rocks as he could and hurrying when he had to get from one to the next. He could feel the rifle being taken into position, held steady and close to the ground, barely moving. Erik was almost as focused on the muzzle of the rifle as he was on his eyes and breath while he moved. The muzzle was following somebody’s movements, though it was hard to tell if it was Logan or her partner.

As Logan had reported, the hilltop was completely flat. Erik had gone as close as he dared, up to the last rock formation on this side of the hill. But now, between him and the rifle, or rather, the woman lying on the sandy ground between sparse tufts of grass, there was nothing but open space. She was motionless, her entire focus on her aim, her finger poised at the trigger. Erik’s breath was flat, as if he was worried a breath too deep or too loud might disturb her. His fingers loosened around the grip of his knife.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, noises could be heard from down by the foot of the hill. A shot. Erik didn’t wait for the second, he reached out with his powers, this time to press the muzzle of the rifle down, instead of just ripping it from her hands. Her shot hit the ground. In a fluid motion, she lept to her feet, pulling out the gun at her belt and getting ready to aim. A second shot, down where Logan was. Erik let go of the knife, letting it whizz at the woman and stopping it barely an inch from her neck. Two, three, four, five. His heartbeat was hammering in Erik’s ears. They glared at each other both aware that the second they moved, the other would, too.

A crash, so much louder than the shots before, so loud it couldn’t be a gun or a person, had them both spin their heads around. It had sounded like a building collapsing and taking something big and heavy with it.

”Charles!” the woman gasped, letting go of her gun with her left to press two of her fingers against her temple, more reflex than actual action.

Erik’s stomach was turning, mostly due to second hand vertigo from Logan dropping what had felt like ten meters or more, before sliding down even further at high speed. For a moment, his knife, almost forgotten anyway, wavered with him. Then, he dropped it. The woman had lowered her gun.

”What the shit?” she demanded as if Erik knew.

”Until you two geniuses came, we were looking for an entrance,” Erik snapped. He felt about to vomit. “Sounds like they found it.”

She cursed, a broad Scottish accent hiding below her well-practiced, even English.

”No shit,” Erik sighed. He let himself drop to the ground, in the hope that it would help keep his head from spinning too much. “My guess? Logan and your friend are now some thirty meters below the ground. I hope your friend had a soft landing.” And thank fuck for Logan’s healing factor, Erik added mentally. If not for that and the adamantium around his bones, he’d definitely would have worried.

”Truce?” the woman offered. “Seems we have a bigger problem right now.”

Erik waved his hand to indicate that he’d need a while to get back into a fight anyway. “Truce.”

Now that Erik had the capacity to actually look at her, he recognized her. “Hey, weren’t you sitting across from me while we were waiting for the flight to Beijing?”

She shrugged. “We thought that since you hadn’t met me and Howlett barely knows me, it’d be a shot keeping an eye on you during your flight. But actually catching the same one as you was a lucky guess.” Hesitating for a second, she put her gun back in its holster. With a sigh, she looked over to her rifle. “That’s the second you broke now.”

”I’m so very sorry.” Erik’s voice was flat with sarcasm.

She shrugged. “Not me paying for replacement.” She held out her hand. “Moira.”

Erik took it and let her pull him back to his feet. She was surprisingly strong for her slender build. “Erik.” He rolled his eyes. “But I assume you knew that already.”

”Doesn’t mean I don’t want permission to call you that, Professor.” She winked. “But Erik’s much easier.”

He huffed, almost, but just almost, amused. “We should go check up on our poor accidental ruin finders.”

~*~

Charles blinked at the darkness surrounding him. Some way up, there was a hole in the… probably the ceiling of a cave, Charles realized slowly, but it didn’t help much . He was lying on his back—which hurt—and would need his hands—which also hurt—to get up on his—unsurprisingly hurting—feet. Rolling around was decently easy, though whatever he was lying on seemed softer than what cave floors usually felt like, but the moment he put weight on his right hand, red-hot pain flared up in his wrist. Instinctively, Charles pulled the hand up, imbalancing himself for a second. In the end, he opted for falling back on his heels to kneel instead of getting up. A quick, very careful examination of his wrist left him with the impression that while it hurt like all hell, it wasn’t broken. That, at least, was something. All the other pain felt like it’d grow into full bruises later, but was dismissable for the moment.

Eventually, and very carefully, he got back up on his feet. His eyes were getting used to the gloom a little, enough at least to realize he’d landed on a body. A moment of panic had followed when he’d realized he couldn’t feel any thoughts nearby—only Moira some distance away, talking to somebody else. It took him longer than he’d be comfortable to admit to realize that it had to be Logan.

Logan, who hadn’t gone down after the first shot from his tranquilizer gun. Logan, who’d then turned. Logan who’d crashed down with his knee first on the ground. The sudden lack of said ground below both of them. Falling briefly, a thing Charles assumed he should be thankful for. And then rolling down a slope, or a dune or… the heap of sand that had found its way down into the cave somehow.

Charles touched his arm, just above where the pain began. All things considered, he could be off much, much worse.

Next to him, Logan made a soft sound, startling Charles. They were sure he’d go down with what they had, but none of them had been sure for how long. He’d had a gun when he fell. It had to be nearby. He needed it.

Searching in the dark, with less and less light each step he took away from the hole in the ceiling, turned out to be fruitless. With a sigh, Charles sat back down. He was stuck, in the dark, with someone who had every right to regard him as both a threat and an enemy, against whom he couldn’t defend himself with neither his powers nor physically. Charles frowned. That sounded all too gloomy for his liking.

”Anyone still alive down there?”

The sudden call startled Charles, making him lean onto his hurt wrist in an attempt to get back on his feet.

”Sounds like somebody is dying down there,” a voice he didn’t immediately recognize commented his pained noises.

”Could you be any more of an asshole if you tried?” That was Moira’s voice, Charles realized with elation. “I could throw you down there as well and see how you’d like it.”

”With all the metal on you? Please, I’d pull you down with me.”

”Which would mean we’d all be stuck down there, genius.”

”Are you planning to get me out or will you continue to squabble?” Charles called up. He thought he could make out shapes at the hole, but it was too bright to tell for sure.

”Depends.” Charles was now certain that the second voice was Erik. “Did you kill Logan?”

”No!” Charles was almost, just almost, appalled at the mere suggestion. But a part of him reminded him that Erik had not a single reason to view him kindly, from none of their meetings.

”In that case, we have some rope in the car! Should be enough to pull you out! Anything else you need for now?”

”Bandages!”

There was a moment of silence. Then, “I could drop you some right now.”

”But I couldn’t see them!” Charles shouted back, thinking of his gun.

With a current of underlying glee, Moira projected at him the flat look Erik was shooting her. A moment later, a switched-on torch was tossed down in his vague direction, surprisingly never hitting the heap of sand but falling more or less in parallel to the slope. When it reached the bottom, it just dropped straight down on Logan’s chest with a low thud.

Charles picked it up, pausing for a second to remember he had to hold it with his left. He found two rolls of bandages tied to it with thick string. “Thank you!”

”Batteries should last you a couple of hours! But still, don’t waste it!”

”How long do you think it’ll take you to pull me out of here?” Charles tried to laugh and make it sound like they’d have both of them out and back on the ground again in under an hour. Out loud, it sounded much more like a gloomy forecast.

Silence, then, Moira shouted down. “Just hang in there as well as you can, don’t go out of telepathic reach, and don’t hurt each other. We’ll be back in a bit with the first aid kit in a bit!”

”Just hang in there,” Charles repeated to himself, knowing that Moira and Erik were walking off and he was alone again. At least it wasn’t alone in the dark anymore. Against Erik’s warning, he hadn’t switched the torch off, but shone its light around the cave, first in search of his gun, then over the walls. It wasn’t a natural cave, not anymore at least. Most of the walls had been worked on, smoothed and some had been painted or carved into. He looked around, his mouth hanging slightly open.

”What…?” he whispered, to the world in general.

~*~

”So,” Moira broke the silence between them. The car was far enough off for just walking next to each other being uncomfortable. “How did you and Howlett meet? Pretty sure you’re not part of his usual circles.”

”You mean I don’t look like a treasure hunter, hired gun or other shady business?” Erik raised a brow. “You don’t, either.”

”Because I usually get better paid than him. And I know how to use a computer.”

Erik snorted involuntarily. “Big advantage over Logan.” He paused for a moment to look at Moira. “I can see more and more why he warned me about you.”

He just barely noticed the eyeroll. “Why, because I’m your type?”

Erik shrugged. “Why not? Intelligent, snarky, no bullshit. It’s intriguing.”

Moira shook her head. “You’re pulling my leg. _And_ dodging my question, too!”

”Just a bit.” Erik laughed. “Though, the compliments were honest. I met Logan in a bar some years back.”

”He’s some shady guy you met in a bar,” Moira echoed.

”We were both foreigners and saw each other regularly. Eventually, the hope of having somebody to talk to got us to get to know each other.” Erik shrugged. “Had I known what he’d been doing back then… I might have never, ever… I mean, I’d probably have tried to punch him.”

A dry “aha” was the only response from Moira.

”He didn’t tell me what his job was until he left the country.” Erik shrugged. “I didn’t try to contact him after. He did.”

”And you caved to his swears of true love?”

”I send him an angry mail about desertification back.” Looking back, he knew how stupid and anger driven he’d acted. It made him smile against his better judgement. “Didn’t stop him from replying, though. Anger’s usually a bad advisor, but then again, Logan never knew when to step back.”

Moira rubbed her hands across her face. Erik recognized her expression of annoyed defeat as one he often wore as well.

”So you know his working tactics, too?” Erik was more bemused than he should be.

”Know is too strong a word… I heard… vivid accounts of them.” She shuddered. “I very much disagree with them, just so you know. And they aren’t tactics.”

Erik nodded in full understanding. “No way _chaaaaaaaaaaarge!_ is a tactic.”

They’d by then almost reached the car. “So, are you going to tell me how he… got back on your good side?”

”One condition.” With a flick of his wrist, Erik let the jeep door swing open as they came close. “You somehow, anyhow, get it into Charles head that if he ever, in his entire life, tries to flirt with me with the intent of getting anything intimate out of it, I will find a way to test at least one of the unbloody execution methods I read about on him. And there’s lots. Just in case the first one fails.”

”Macabre,” Moira commented. She was watching him rummage around the jeep for rope and other things he thought might come in handy.

”I spend a lot of time reading side notes about those. So, will you?” Erik paused in his search, first aid kit in hand.

Moira waved her hand. “Sure. Promise I’ll impress the fear of you into him. And of me, if he breaks my promise.”

Erik nodded solemnly. “Good enough for me.” He handed the first aid kit over to Moira and took the rope himself, after stuffing additional batteries for the torch and some water and food in his bag. “I like him. That’s pretty much all there is. I don’t like people in general. I like him. And…” Erik swallowed. “He had the chance to sleep with me and didn’t,” he murmured softly.

Moira shook her head. “Geeeez.” For a while, neither of them said anything. They just walked back to the hole. Closer than they had been on their way to the car, however. Suddenly, Moira burst out laughing. “...for telepaths, both Em and Charles are dense sometimes.”

”What?” Erik blinked at her.

Moira shook her head, sighing, but still amused. “The difference between knowing first hand something exists in others and never having felt anything like it for themselves on a personal level makes them forgetful.” When Erik continued to just blink at her without any understanding, she clarified, “They both think no sex means no deep or intimate relationship.”

Erik made a noise of understanding. “That explains a lot.”

”Yeah. It does.” Moira nodded, more to herself than anything. “...it makes me also think that Charles deserved to get punched. But just a little.” She held two fingers close together to demonstrate how little.

”I’m starting to see why Logan didn’t exactly want me to talk to you.” Erik laughed.

”Oh, really now?”

”I like you.”

”I’m very very lesbian,” Moira deadpanned.

Erik rolled his eyes. “As a person. And Logan doesn’t. Most definitely not.”

Moira slapped his shoulder. “Brighten up, I was pulling your leg. Does liking me mean you won’t throw knifes at me again?”

”I’ll even refrain from pulling rifles out of your hands.” Erik grinned.

Moira let out a low whistle. “Wo-ow.”

”Any chance you’ll tell me who you’re working for now?” Erik was still smiling but he could feel an old, cold worry up on him.

”Oh, you mean now that you’ve sworn friendship, I’ll just share some business insider info?” Moira laughed. “We’re working for no one.” She shrugged. “We just noticed Logan had some unusual interests lately and… Well, I assume you know what kind of people he usually works for.”

”I did yell at him often enough, yes.” Erik pulled a face. “So, any chance that if we’d find anything…?”

”We’ll give it to the rightful authorities? I see no reason why not, but I think you’ll have to take that up with Em. She likes to make the final decisions with money.”

”Em’s that blonde chick spying on us in the café back home?” Erik asked. “Your girlfriend?”

”I told them you’d notice,” Moira sighed. “Yeah, that’s her. She and Charles are old friends. That’s how we came to work together.”

Erik nodded. “And she…?”

”Maintaining a base in civilization for us right now. She and Charles can talk over any distance if they really set their minds to it—pun not intended. And, to be fair, she hates the desert and camping so if there’s any way to dodge it, she’s game.”

”Ah, a wise one.” Erik made a solemn face and nodded slowly. It made Moira laugh, which pleased him.

”Well, sometimes, she could stand to- What?” Erik had stopped and was holding up a hand, causing Moira to do the same. “Screams?” They looked at each other for a second, then started to run.

~*~

Charles had looked around for a while until he’d decided the wait could be much better passed with him getting up and actually look around. It was awkward holding the torch in what felt like the wrong hand to him but his dominant hand just hurt too much to even consider.

The cavern was big, bigger even than Charles had thought from his initial position. Reaching the walls he’d been admiring took more than just a couple of steps. Charles stared up at the reliefs in wonder. Most of those he could make out from his limited point of view now showed horses, detailed and realistic, most of them in full gallop. Some had riders, others were without, adorned with ribbons in their manes and tails. Forgetting the pain for a moment, he reached out, involuntarily, to brush his fingertips over the back of the nearest horse. The stone was cold, not the warmth of a body he’d almost expected.

He kept wandering along the relief, pausing every few steps to take a closer look at something, birds, other pastoral animals, a weapon at height with his eyes. Someone, or many someones, had to have spend a lot of time creating this, likely with little light from a source with open flame. He’d seen such works before, but that didn’t stop him from being stunned by awe every time.

He didn’t notice the time pass as he wandered, nor did he hear the shuffling noises behind him, back at the foot of the sandy hill. He didn’t even hear the steps coming up behind him. Which was exactly why he screamed, when suddenly, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and turned him around.

~*~

Moira and Erik came to a scrambling halt at the edge of the hole in the ground. Erik dropped to his knees almost before he’d even stopped moving forward, peering down in the darkness, even though he was unable to make out anything but a faint, fuzzy light some way off in the direction of the hill above ground.

”You okay down there?” Moira yelled next to him.

No answer came.

”Logan!” Erik called out, his powers reaching out to find him where the light was, now standing upright and feeling tense all over. “What the hell is going on, you two?”

~*~

”Where the hell are we?” Logan grumbled, standing exactly in the right position to just punch Charles in the face if he disliked the answer, as Charles noted with a cold sweat. His hand was still on Charles’ shoulder, too, with a grip that told in no uncertain terms that trying to escape was futile. Just then, Charles remembered that he hadn’t even looked for his gun.

”Underground,” Charles replied because that was all he really knew. “I think we broke through some old beams and landed down here.”

Logan’s eyes flickered behind Charles. He took the torch from Charles’ unresisting hand, shining it up and down the wall for a moment and then handing it back. “Well, at least we all found what we’ve been looking for. Where’s Erik?” Just to make it unmistakably clear to Charles that this answer was even more critical than the last, he nonchalantly unsheathed the claws of his free hand and held them up so Charles could see how sharp they were.

”With Moira, they’re fetching rope and… uh, more first aid material?” Blades had always made Charles nervous, at the very least ever since he’d first run into Logan. “He sounded like he was alright.”

From the distance, Charles could hear a shout. But Logan didn’t react at all.

Instead, Logan leaned forward, close enough so he could whisper directly into Charles’ ear. “If you ever touch him again,” he growled, danger and aggression seeping into every syllable. “I hope you’re not too attached to having your intestines on the inside.”

Charles swallowed and nodded.

Another yell from the distance. This time, Logan reacted by straightening up again and turning slightly in the direction of the point of their accidental entry. He relaxed a little. “C’mon,” he told Charles. “We’re going over there and tell them nothing happened. Out loud.”

Charles followed Logan, still shaken. They’d met before, clashed, too, but this had been just about the first time Logan had been this threatening. He didn’t doubt for a second that Logan had been serious. Telepathically, he nudged Moira, sharing his feelings of concern, worry and self-doubt. She pushed the doubts back at him with force and a sense of annoyed anger to let him know she agreed that he’d fucked up somewhere.

”We’re here!” Logan shouted up at the hole. “We were just taking a look at the attractions down here! You might want to throw me a camera.”

”Attractions?”

Charles shared his memories of the wall with Moira, just to notice Erik opening his mind a little a moment later, and offering the memory to him as well.

”Hold on!” Erik yelled. “I’ll just drop you my whole bag, alright? We got you food and water with the rope. And the first aid kit.” A few moments of frantic rummaging passed that Charles could observe through Moira’s eyes. “Logan, do you have your notebook down there?”

”Didn’t lose it!”

”Perfect!” A moment later, a sturdy leather satchel was let down, just as gently and in the same way as the torch before. Only this time, it didn’t drop until Logan had it grasped firmly by the handle.

”This might be what you were looking for!” Logan yelled up. “There’s a doorway leading further into this place too! We should look around while we’re down here anyway!”

”Think you can handle that with how you got down there?” Moira asked. “Charles sounded pretty banged up.”

Logan turned to look at Charles who held his hurting wrist up. It had swollen visibly. “Fuck, that’s gotta hurt,” he commented. “Good thing it wasn’t your neck.” He fished the first aid kit out of the satchel. “We gotta stabilize that.”

Charles pulled a face. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

”You can’t hold onto a rope for however long it takes to get up there again, do you?” Logan huffed. He was picking apart what he needed from the kit and what he didn’t to take a look at Charles’ wrist. “Hurt anywhere else?”

”Everywhere,” Charles groaned. “But nowhere as bad as there.”

”Okay, good.” Logan looked back up at the hole. “We might be a bit!” he yelled. “Gotta patch Charles up first. But we’re not sure if we can make it up again as we are!”

Now that Erik’s mind was open for him again, Charles could feel a wave of insecure repulse going through Erik. A moment after he’d buried the feeling again, Erik shouted down: “You could hold him while I lift you up, Logan.”

Logan pulled a face at Charles. Unsure if it meant he didn’t want to hold Charles ever or if it just meant he knew Erik’s feelings toward the idea, Charles merely shrugged and murmured: “We don’t need to…”

”No, we don’t. Not now.” There wasn’t any discussion to be had about this matter with Logan, it seemed. “Or we could just have a look around down here come tomorrow and you’ll pull us up once we’re done, bub. It’s nice and cool down here, you see?” Logan shouted up.

Charles could vaguely feel Erik and Moira having a conversation, but he didn’t have the energy to pry. It had been a long day, now that he thought about it and calling it a night soon might have been one of the best ideas he’d ever heard Logan having. Eventually, just when Logan started to get fidgety, Moira deigned to give them the conclusion of their discussion. “We’ll go fetch your duffles then. Erik says he’s ok with letting you share your findings telepathically for expert support and opinions.” A pause. “I’m supposed to ask for Logan’s permision he shares a tent with me, though.”

”I’m not giving a single fuck!” Logan happily shouted back.

”Good, because you don’t get any permission to murder Charles in his sleep. We’ll let you rot down there if you do.”

”Duly noted. No stabbing at night.” Logan was still too amused for Charles’ liking.

”Nor during the day! Full twenty-four hour day!” Erik, apparently, thought that addition was needed.

”Nor during the day. Promise.”

”Well then… We’ll deliver your duffles in a bit, alight? Might be a while since we have to go get both cars.”

Charles could feel them walk away, but it took a moment for Logan to grace Charles with any attention again. “Why do you get a stern warning and I don’t?” Charles jokingly complained.

”Because if you do something I dislike, I just stab you anyway and then dig my way back to the surface.” Logan’s smile showed off his perfectly sharp incisors.

Charles rolled his eyes. “Very predatory. Are you trying that in the bedroom as well?”

”Ahhhh.” Logan laughed, motioning for Charles to sit down with him. “So that’s the kind of stern warning you wanted to get.”

”What? NO!” The torch was set up between them so the light was shining toward the ceiling. Charles held out his injured wrist to Logan. “Although your boyfriend seems to think I’m some kind of sexual predator.”

Logan took a tick looking roll of bandage he’d picked out earlier from the satchel. “I don’t have proper tape, so this’ll have to do. Relax.”

”It really hurts.” Charles pulled a face.

”Just try, then. I don’t want you to suffer more than you need to.” Much more careful that Charles would have thought Logan could be, he took the hand in his and started bandaging. “And yes, that’s pretty much what Erik thinks you are. Somebody who can’t control his sex drive to respect Erik’s limits.”

”I can respect limits,” Charles protested. The allegation might fit Erik’s behaviour, but they still seemed unfounded to Charles.

”I’m sure you can.” Logan pulled at the bandage a little less careful than before. “You still touched him.”

”I touch a lot of people while I’m talking to them. ...ouch. Too tight!”

”Well, maybe you could start asking before you do. Not everyone thinks you’re cute or the like, you know.”

Charles opened his mouth to disagree, but then closed it before he could articulate his initial reaction. “You really think I think that?”

Logan shrugged, very aware that he couldn’t move his hands enough to wave the question away. “I think you should stop touching strangers if you don’t need to.”

Charles bit his lower lip, both in an attempt to not ask Logan if he was jealous and to buy time to think their talk so far through. For a while, he just watched Logan wrap his wrist in bandage. It looked very well practiced, much to Charles’ surprise. Logan himself couldn’t need first aid often, not with his healing factor, which in turn meant he’d have to have learned it for somebody else’s sake. Another detail that Charles couldn’t handle with anything other than to just put it down as another puzzle for the meantime. “I can’t just stop that. I’ve always done it.”

Logan scoffed.

”Is it really just that? He doesn’t like me because I touched him?”

”I don’t like you because you flirted with him. Hands off.” Logan’s voice and face were unreadable.

For a moment, Charles just looked at Logan with his mouth hanging open slightly. “You really, really are… involved? I… Logan. I’m pretty sure you flirted with me while you were already… Moira said you’ve been a couple a long time.”

”Yeah, well, just because he doesn’t mind doesn’t mean I don’t.” Logan finished the bandaging and tucked the end of it under a previous layer before he searched the satchel for tape to fixate it. “ _Involved_ , huh? That’s the best word you got?”

”How would you put it, then?”

”A relationship built on mutual trust and bickering.” Logan grinned. “And smooching.”

The last word was so intentionally out of place, Charles couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Smooching? I didn’t take you much for the smooching kind.”

”I’m a big, cuddly teddy bear, didn’t you know?”

”I honestly can’t tell if you’re serious or pulling my leg.” He suddenly remembered the short contact he’d had with Moira earlier. “Logan…? Can I ask something?”

”Ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer, though.”

"Erik, is he...?"

"He's gay. Through and through." Again, Logan didn’t sound like this point was one he’d ever put up to discussion.

"Uhm... yeah, but... Moira... it sounded like... Is he homosexual?"

Logan shook his head. “You sound like that’s a novel concept to you. Are you sure you’re a telepath?”

”I…” Charles pulled a face. “I was just asking. So, he’s gay, but not into sex with men?”

”Not into sex, period. Doesn’t matter who with.” Logan looked up and closed his eyes, seemingly listening for something for a while. “That’s why he doesn’t take too kindly to people wanting to have sex with him. You understand?”

Charles swallowed. “Vaguely? Fight or flight. Got that, it hurt when he hit me.” He rubbed his chin with his good hand to indicate where he’d been hit. The whole thing made him wonder how somebody who clearly, as far as Charles knew, liked carnal pleasures as much as Logan did could willfully deprive himself of sex.

Something about his thoughts must have reflected on his face, because Logan suddenly growled, “If your next question is how I can make myself have a relationship without sex, I _will_ deck you.”

”I won’t ask.”

”Good. Because it’s none of yours how other people have relationships.” Logan rummaged in the satchel. “I’m going. Use the time we’re waiting to be productive. You can wait here.”

Charles watched him pick up the torch, camera and a notebook and then walk off into the distance, to the wall, leaving Charles behind, alone in the darkness.


End file.
